<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Starman by wajjs</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27594629">Starman</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wajjs/pseuds/wajjs'>wajjs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Across The Universe (vld fics) [36]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DCU, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, M/M, Not Beta Read, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:20:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,710</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27594629</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wajjs/pseuds/wajjs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p> "Don't move!" Putting every ounce of authority he can muster into his voice, he stands his ground, points his rifle where clearly the head is.</p>
<p> There's a twitch of muscles, the automatic release of the cable that goes back inside a familiar looking device. The person looks up from where they are half crouching-half thrown on the ground, white lenses haunting.</p>
<p> "Huh," they say, accent thick and voice distorted, "guess I ain't in Gotham no more."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lance/Shiro (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Across The Universe (vld fics) [36]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/726072</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Starman</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For my <a href="https://wajjs.tumblr.com/tagged/blob%27s-prompt-party">prompt party.</a></p>
<p>Prompt is: <em>jason falls in the vld universe and shance are horny for him</em></p>
<p>Posting it here directly because this one's longer than the others and reading it on tumblr could potentially be asking too much LOL</p>
<p>Post final season of VLD canon compliant, except Shiro's divorced here. Sort of like 6 years have gone by since the end of canon. </p>
<p>Also, this is 100% tame and I don't think it's really what the prompt was asking for, but I tried my very best</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Starman</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> It's a fine day and he's in the middle of the fields, staring up at the sky, when the wind picks up. This, in and out of itself, is not particularly special and doesn't call for any kind of alarm. What <em> is </em> different, however, is the cause of the change of intensity in the wind. Because right above him the colors themselves are shifting, twisting into a spiral that sends him down to the worst of war.</p>
<p> Sends him to the screams of pain that he had no control over as everything under his skin kept burning and burning and—</p>
<p> "Everybody inside!," he screams, rushing to retrieve his bayard from where he's always kept it. </p>
<p> They'd told him there wasn't a reason to have it close at all times anymore. They did say that, they had tried to convince him, but he didn't spend most of his youth fighting and <em> dying </em> in a war for some things to simply never haunt him.</p>
<p> (Sometimes he closes his eyes and he can still hear everyone's screams, he can still feel the pain, see the faces of every single sentient being they have failed. </p>
<p> It hurts on a different scale than the pain he feels when he looks up at the sky and thinks he sees <em> her </em> shining up there, believes he sees her smile in the line of stars and her hair in the groups of clouds. </p>
<p> He's always looking at the sky, searching for her. He can't look away.)</p>
<p> In the middle of the fields, surrounded by flowers brought to life in honor of a memory, he activates his bayard one more time, lets it shape itself into the familiar weight of a rifle, and stands in position, ready to protect what's left of all that he's ever loved.</p>
<p> Except there's only one body falling from the sky. Well, what looks like a body, red shining like a blinding beacon under the sun, and it falls falls falls falls—till it does something, half flailing half movements he can't quite determine, and suddenly there's a cable connecting to one of the trees, the trajectory changes radically. It's no longer falling to a certain <em> splat! </em> but, rather, <em> working with gravity </em> so the moment of connection with the ground isn't mortal.</p>
<p> He starts running, regardless. Runs towards the place he knows the body will land and gets there just as it happens. Right above them, the portal closes.</p>
<p> "Don't move!" Putting every ounce of authority he can muster into his voice, he stands his ground, points his rifle where clearly the head is. This up close, it's obvious this individual is <em> human </em> (or humanoid) and the bright red is a helmet.</p>
<p> There's a twitch of muscles, the automatic release of the cable that goes back inside a familiar looking device. The person looks up from where they are half crouching-half thrown on the ground, white lenses haunting.</p>
<p> "Huh," they say, accent thick and voice distorted, "guess I ain't in Gotham no more."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> The surprise visitor turns out to be actually a human.</p>
<p> The helmet comes off easily in the Garrison containment room and in the ringing silence the surreality of the situation only grows. Because he thinks he can hear a sigh coming from the other side of the glass wall, just outside the room, and he's compelled to agree when his senses come upon the sight of the most gorgeous man he's ever seen.</p>
<p> And he's seen <em> Shiro. </em></p>
<p> "So," the man says, setting the red helmet on the table and lifting a hand to ruffle his hair, his deep black hair with a shock of white and oh dear lords—"all good, right? The scans confirmed I'm human."</p>
<p> "We, uh," he clears his throat once, twice, tries not to get lost in the blue to green eyes, like, how <em> unfair </em> is that? "Name?"</p>
<p> The man lifts an eyebrow. This time, the two of them clearly hear the sigh coming from outside.</p>
<p> Anyways, he gives it another try. "What's your name?"</p>
<p> It's just then when the doors slide open, letting inside the second most gorgeous man and hey, they both look kind of—</p>
<p> "Lance," Shiro greets him with a warm smile before turning to the other. "All scans are correct. I'd like to offer an apology for locking you in here in the first place, though I'm sure you understand we did this as a security measure."</p>
<p> "Yeah," the guy shrugs, crosses his arms and leans on his side. "I get it. Now, if you let me out, I'll find a way to go back to where I come from. I didn't exactly leave during a cool time."</p>
<p>  There's a small smile on Shiro's face. "I'm afraid we can't let you out of the premises just yet. There are things we are still investigating—about the portal you came through, too. But if you help us out, we'll do everything we can to return the gesture—"</p>
<p>  "Fuck that," with a snarl, he stands tall again, looming even over Shiro with a mean scowl on his face. "That's no fucking <em> gesture. </em> You're keeping me locked up."</p>
<p>  "You'll be able to wander around our premises and—"</p>
<p>  "Listen here, asshole," he only has time to give one step closer and Lance activates his bayard again, keeps it perfectly aimed, lets it be all the warning the guy gets. The air all around them is tense.</p>
<p>  "I <em> agreed </em> to come in here. I <em> let </em> you do your thing. Now you <em> will </em> let me do mine."</p>
<p>  The hand on Shiro's big prosthetic arm closes into a fist.</p>
<p>  "I will not let you out of here and potentially endanger thousands of innocent lives!"</p>
<p>  It's clear the twins—not twins, bad brain, bad—are about to blow up on each other. Lance shifts his stance only a little, keeps his weapon on the newcomer but his scowl is directed at the one he knows best.</p>
<p>  "Hey, big boys," his tone leaves no room for discussion. It's one he generally uses on his siblings' kids and on the animals back at the farm when they are being rowdy. And just like in those situations, it works like a charm. "Knock it off. Shiro, we <em> don't </em> keep prisoners. Remember what happened last time we did? And you, not-Shiro," the corner of the guy's mouth twitches, "we are <em> not </em> leaving you alone to do what you want. So <em> I </em> will be with you all the time, and we won't get too far from the Garrison. Got it?"</p>
<p>  They both try to speak at roughly the same time. Lance isn't having it.</p>
<p>  "<em>Got it?</em>"</p>
<p>  Two synchronized nods. What did he say? That tone works like a charm. He's got this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  Except that the guy's name is <em> Jason </em> and his voice is doing things to Lance that Lance does not want to say out loud. His eyes twinkle in the sun and his smile is taken straight out of the most earnest of the dreams born from loneliness.</p>
<p>  Standing in the open fields somewhere in between his farm and the large military compound, Lance crosses his arms over his chest to fight back the wave of <em> guiltguiltguiltguit </em> threatening to come hit him full force. It's been five—almost six—years. She's gone. She's not coming back. And everyone's been telling him it's time to move on but he doesn't think that he can and he—</p>
<p>  "So," the guy, no, Jason hums, idly scratching the side of his neck where a big thick scar splits the evenness of the skin in two, "a world with no Batman. No heroes."</p>
<p>  Blinking thrice, Lance looks back at him, shrugs a little. "Well, people consider the paladins heroes, but—I mean, yeah, who the fuck is Batman?"</p>
<p>  Jason <em> laughs. </em> The dormant butterflies in Lance's stomach that he hasn't felt in basically forever wake up with the force of an earthquake. Either that or he's about to throw up for reasons unknown.</p>
<p>  "Can't imagine a whole space war without the Lanterns," he says next and Lance has no idea what he's talking about but it's okay, he's still recovering from the butterflies. "This place sure ain't like any other place in the multiverse I've been before."</p>
<p>  There's a minute of silence. Wind picks up again and they both look at the sky. Before he can talk himself out of it, Lance starts talking once more.</p>
<p>  "So, portals," it's an awkward start but they can build off from that, "there's a chance I might be able to make one, but it will probably take you somewhere within <em> this </em> reality. I'm sorry."</p>
<p>  When he looks back at the other, he finds that there's a blinding smile as part of a reply. His heart somersaults.</p>
<p>  "There's nothing to be sorry for, Lance," even his own name sounds so different. Good different. "That's so much more than I'm used to working with. Thank you."</p>
<p>  <em> Oh, Allura. </em></p>
<p>
  <em>   Please don't judge me. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  The finessing takes some time. More accurately, it takes its sweet sweet time and Lance is both thankful and sad because as he gets to know Jason better, he can more easily tell how the frustration in the other grows stronger and stronger. And he understands well the feelings of wanting to <em> go back, see known faces, see family again. </em> He does actually get it.</p>
<p>  A month in time is just around the corner and the most they have been able to do is discovering how to get the portals going. Because Lance's theory had only been that, one based on good will and the fact that he hoped Allura had passed onto him something more than just aesthetically pleasing glowing markings, plastered right on his cheeks. Confirmation of a hypothesis doesn't mean mastery of technique, however, and yet he feels like he's letting everyone down.</p>
<p>  Jason's just outside the main room of the castleship, where the controls are and Lance is standing in the exact same position Allura held in what feels like a lifetime ago. Deep breaths, eyes closed, let the energy course through him. Still, nothing.</p>
<p>  It's his fault.</p>
<p>  Jason's stuck here because of him and—</p>
<p>  "Hey," Lance could recognize that voice in his dreams and is still half-conditioned to obey any orders it might communicate. The knee-jerk reaction is there. "That's enough for today, Lance. Take a break."</p>
<p>  "No, it's okay," he insists just like he did with Jason half an hour ago. "I'm okay."</p>
<p>  "You are not," there's a warm hand on his shoulder, "come on."</p>
<p>  "Shiro, please," something tender is about to come alight in his throat and Lance grips onto the handles harder, shakes a little, tears inside a lot, "I just. I should be able to. I—Coran said I carry Allura's energy in me. So I <em> can—</em>I can do it. I just. I just don't know how."</p>
<p>  "Lance," with a sigh as the only prelude, Shiro gently moves him away from the controls, turns him around so they are face to face. When they look at each other, it's clear that stress and age did not mix well in either of them. "You need to breathe and rest. One more day won't make any difference."</p>
<p>  "It will though! Jason's depending on me to go home and—"</p>
<p>  "And I really would like you not to kill yourself over it," is the reply that comes from over the entrance. Lance freezes halfway through an inhale. "We can find another way. But there ain't another <em> you. </em>"</p>
<p>  Shiro smiles a little, drops one of his hands as he looks at the other.</p>
<p>  "Told you that convincing him to leave would be hard."</p>
<p>  The corner of Jason's mouth twitches as he snorts. "<em> I know. </em> Been tryin' to do that for the past two hours, why d'ya think I went lookin' for you? 'Cause I wanted to check my face without lookin' in a mirror?"</p>
<p>  It's incredible how anything he does can make both Lance <em> and Shiro </em> blush. Not so much on the Lance front, because it's not that hard to cause in him that reaction, but in Shiro? Champion, war hero, once divorced, all around highly competent badass? Jason's the real deal. </p>
<p>  …And he's also super hot.</p>
<p>  "Let's go grab something to eat," he grins at the two of them like he doesn't realize the effect he's having on them (he <em> has </em> to know, right?), leaving without waiting for confirmation.</p>
<p>  "My god," Lance says, barely above a breath. Shiro offers a vague nod. "I hate to see him leave, but I love to watch him go."</p>
<p>  Less than a second goes by and, "<em>Lance,</em>" Shiro's laughter is infectious, a beautiful sound to hear. He doesn't even try to deny it. Jason is quite the sight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  It's late at night and there's a knock on the door of the only office in the Garrison with the lights on. There's no waiting for a permission to come inside when the doors slide open with a keycard he should not have. It's not a problem. Shiro won't tattle on him.</p>
<p>  "That whole talk about rest," there's the crossing of his arms over his chest as he leans to the side, "you know it applies to you as well, don't you?"</p>
<p>  "Just a second," he hums without really paying attention, eyes never leaving the thick wad of papers in his hands, not missing a single word.</p>
<p>  "Come on man, it's like, two. Everyone's gone home."</p>
<p>  "And Jason?"</p>
<p>  "What," Lance peers over the desk, lets a slow grin unfurl across his lips, "planning on a surprise visit?"</p>
<p>  <em> That </em> finally gets Shiro's attention.</p>
<p>  "We can't seduce him."</p>
<p>  "Oh," the grin grows wider, sharper, "<em>we, </em> huh?"</p>
<p>  "I—," a pause that extends for almost a minute. Shiro looks like he's physically trying to restart this whole conversation as one would do in a game. "You know what I mean."</p>
<p>  "Yeah, sure, I know," he shrugs, "it'll end on a bittersweet note because, at the end of the day, he literally doesn't belong to this reality <em> and </em> universe. But maybe that's why we both like him."</p>
<p>  Shiro doesn't say anything. He stares at Lance, mouth slightly ajar, papers still in his hands wrinkling a little.</p>
<p>  "Because he's safe," there's no need to finalize the concept, yet the words come out with ease, "because he won't stick around for us to try our shot at a relationship only for it to backfire terribly. I know, Shiro. My girlfriend turned into the universe with her beautiful but crazy ex, remember?"</p>
<p>  The slightly ajar mouth closes. "You think I'm going… for the <em> safe </em> option of something not having a future… because I'm divorced?"</p>
<p>  Lance shuffles his feet for a bit, fidgeting, looking askance. "That's not all you've been through though."</p>
<p>  "I—," he has to stop so he can swallow, wet his dry lips with his tongue, "no, yeah. That's not all."</p>
<p>  The silence that follows isn't tense. There's no room for tension between them, not when they have come to know each other so well—not just in this last month. After all, they are the two who spend the most time right here in this part of the universe. They are friends and they have bled, fought and died in a war that still haunts them. They are—</p>
<p>  Lance clears his throat.</p>
<p>  "Say, want to come over to my place? Jason's helping Vero with something that makes my head hurt, but… we don't have to be alone tonight."</p>
<p>  The papers are left on the desk with nearly no sound.</p>
<p>  "Sure," Shiro's standing up, feeling like he's on the tip of his toes, crossing an unseen line. "This can wait until tomorrow."</p>
<p>  The stars shine particularly brighter that night. Not that they notice. Stars always shine brighter during new beginnings.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  In the end, when they finally open the portal and Jason's about to go through it, there's a bright green light that makes him stop in his tracks for a second, causes everyone witnessing this moment to hold their breath. Until—</p>
<p>  "<em>Kyle?!</em>" Jason's voice booms through the comms yet it's not enough to drown out Shiro's whisper of <em> who the fuck is</em> Kyle. It makes Lance smile.</p>
<p>  Jason laughs, though, and he says his final goodbye.</p>
<p>  Until there's a reason to reach out again. No one is ever truly gone.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>